


I can be your hero, baby

by buckybuck (thestarsthesea)



Series: baby I could burn you down - a drabble series [3]
Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky is tired, Drabble, M/M, Spiders, clint is a baby, now translated to Russian!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 07:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7304338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestarsthesea/pseuds/buckybuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>based off the prompt: “There’s the smallest bug in your room and you want me to get it; but don’t kill it!” AU</b>
</p>
<p>this fic has now been translated to Russian!<br/>if you'd like to read that, click <b><a href="https://ficbook.net/readfic/4546530">here</a></b><br/>(thank you to the lovely Laen_Lamperouge for the translation <3)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I can be your hero, baby

~**~

“Agent Barnes?”

Bucky doesn’t whine. He really doesn’t.

He groans instead.

He’s spent all day at SHIELD, sparring with Steve, then Natasha, even Clint for a little bit, but that was too… distracting. So instead he got roped into helping train the junior agents, though they were all too damn scared to actually give him a challenge, there was just _a lot_ of them. It was actually enough to exhaust him, surprisingly.

Now he’s finally back in the tower, he ate, showered, got both a wink and called an old man by Clint, and he’s finally, _finally_ settling down to sleep.

Or apparently not.

He turns onto his back to scowl up at the ceiling, disgruntled. “Yeah?”

“Apologies for disturbing you, sir, but Agent Barton has requested I ask you to, and I quote, “get down here as fast as fucking super soldierly possible, Bucky, I swear to _God_ ”.” It’s strange hearing something so unbelievably _Clint_ come from JARVIS’s posh British voice, but not even the hilarity can stop Bucky from jolting to a sitting position.

“Why what’s up? He in trouble?” But Bucky’s already hopped out of bed and begun looking around frantically for the sweatpants he threw off earlier. God, if that idiot somehow got himself in trouble _inside the tower_ Bucky’s gonna kill him. He doesn’t care _how_ fucking cute he is.

“I do not believe he is in any sort of mortal danger, no. But he does seem quite distressed, I do think you should check on him regardless.” JARVIS doesn’t sound genuinely worried, which is a relief, but Bucky’s still gonna rush. That’s just how he is with Clint.

He debates whether or not running down the stairs would be faster than taking the elevator, but decides it’s not worth it. He’s already sore as hell, and Clint isn’t _dying_ , so.

He steps onto Clint’s floor, deciding as he starts towards the door to break into a run. If Clint wanted him to rush, he’s gonna make him think that he did. And as long as JARVIS doesn’t squeal…

Bucky crashes through Clint’s door, skidding to a stop as the door slams into the wall with a loud bang. He quickly finds Clint in time to catch him jump, and tries not to laugh as he takes him in.

Clint’s crouching on the back of his couch, a perfectly balanced perch, and is squinting angrily into his bedroom. When he turns and sees Bucky standing in the doorway, throws his hands into the air. “Bucky! You came to save me!”

Bucky looks around, quickly assessing for any sort of threat, but finds nothing. He can feel his face slipping into a mild look of confusion. “Save you from _what_?”

Clint pulls his arms back to his chest, turning his head to glare at his bedroom again. “It’s in _there_.”

Bucky looks at him for a minute, waiting for something else, but when Clint stays quiet, he takes hesitant steps towards Clint’s room. He stops right outside the door, flicking his eyes to the corners, around the bed, looking for anything. _Anything._ But once again comes up empty.

He takes a delicate step forward, crossing the threshold. He tenses, ready for anything to jump out at him, but nothing comes. He walks the room, looking under the bed, the closet, the bathroom; still nothing.

After a few minutes of not seeing _anything_ , and _not being attacked by a damn thing_ , Bucky’s a little fucking peeved.

He prowls through the door, scowl in full effect, until he’s right in front of Clint, nose to nose. He glares straight into Clint’s wide blue eyes, voice low and a little dangerous when he says, “Clint. Explain.”

Clint flails a little, hand grazing Bucky’s chest as he throws it around. “Did you not see it?! How did you not see it, it’s huge!” Bucky just raises an eyebrow, but continues to glare. Clint deflates. “Fine.”

He slips off the couch, standing toe to toe with Bucky, so close their chests brush when they breathe. Bucky tries not to lean forward. It’s always hard not to push when Clint gets close. It’s even harder when he can feel the warmth of Clint’s body on his bare chest, even through the cotton of Clint’s shirt.

And, oh yeah, he forgot a shirt.

Clint darts around him, tugging on Bucky’s left arm to get him to turn and follow. He stops, leaning on the door frame, and points. Bucky follows his finger, and his brain immediately turns to murder, and where he can dump Clint’s stupid body.

Resting innocently on the wall beside Clint’s dartboard is a spider. And not even a big spider, just a little jumping spider, no bigger than a navy bean. “Clint. I like you. I like you _so much_. But I’m not sure I _can_ anymore.” Which is a complete and utter _lie_. “You called me down here for a fucking _bug_?”

Clint looks a little guilty, then a little offended, then finally challenging. “I don’t like bugs, Bucky. And I knew you’d come get it.” Bucky stares at him. “But not if I _told_ you.” He concedes, looking sheepish.

Bucky wants to be mad, or at least indignant, but he really can’t manage it. He’s kinda too busy feeling so fucking fond he’s surprised he hasn’t killed Clint or himself with it somehow. He continues to stare at Clint with who knows what written all over his stupid face, but he finally pulls himself away, looking back to the spider. He sighs, walking into the room and right up to the bug. He lifts his left arm, ready to swat it, but Clint yelps, and Bucky freezes and looks at him. “Don't kill it! It didn't mean to come into my room and try to kill me!” Bucky rolls his eyes, positive the spider didn't even skitter its way anywhere near Clint.

Bucky sighs, _again_ , and changes tactics. He goes into the bathroom, grabbing the glass Clint keeps beside the sink, returning to the spider and scooping it right in.

He looks over at Clint, who's staring at the cup apprehensively. He starts forward, and Clint scrambles away hilariously, hastily returning to his perch on the back of the couch. Bucky entertains the idea of throwing the spider on Clint in retaliation for being a fucking dumbass, but he could never. If he ever gets the courage to do something about his stupid crush, he's sure throwing a bug on Clint would dash any hope of him giving Bucky a chance.

So instead, he takes the spider to the window, JARVIS obligingly opens it as he nears, and with a flick of his wrist, Clint’s safe once again.

Bucky walks back towards Clint, eyeing him in amusement. He drops the glass heavily onto an end table, takes in Clint’s lightly flushed cheeks, and the smirk he was trying to stomp down breaks free. “Can't believe you're scared of bugs, Barton.”

Clint meets him head on. “They're creepy and crawly and can sneak into my nose when I sleep. It's a total legitimate fear.”

Bucky snorts, fighting down the urge to step right into Clint’s space and do his own level best to crawl into Clint’s skin. God, he really needs sleep.

He shakes his head, still smiling, flicks Clint’s knee lightly as he turns to the door. “I'm goin’ to bed, if I'm done bein’ your hero for the night, Barton.”

He takes a step, but Clint grabs his arm before he can get more than a foot away. Bucky turns back around, eyebrow raised in a silent question. “You know,” Clint starts, meeting Bucky’s eyes as his hand slides down to tug on Bucky’s metal wrist. “most heroes get the girl after they’re all heroic and stuff.”

Bucky blinks, feels his heart thump heavily in his chest. “Yeah?” He looks around deliberately, then takes a step towards Clint, standing right outside his open knees. “Not seein’ any girls ‘round here.”

Clint follows his lead, gazes around the room lazily. “Nah, guess not.” He pulls at Bucky’s wrist again, and when Bucky steps between his legs, he slips the fingertips of his other hand into the waistband of Bucky’s sweats, curling them slow and sweet against Bucky’s skin. “Guess I'll just have to do.”

Bucky hums, bringing his right hand up to rest lightly against Clint’s waist, delicately teasing the hem of his shirt; barely daring to touch, just in case Clint’s not serious. But he still says, “Think I like you more than a girl, anyhow.”

Clint grins, soft and pleased. “Yeah?”

Bucky smiles back, finally sliding his fingers against the soft skin of Clint’s hip (and _God_ it's so much better than he ever let himself think it’d be), leans in close. His nose slides against Clint’s and he breathes out, slow. Clint tugs delicately at Bucky’s sweats, and their lips brush so, _so_ lightly. And just like that, Bucky’s lost. “Yeah.”

~**~

**Author's Note:**

> hello! :)  
> have another drabble! though this one is bordering further into oneshot territory, really...  
> anyway! clint's fear of bugs crawling into face places is an actual thing I'm paranoid about, but I worry more about my ears, actually haha
> 
> disclaimer: I don't own marvel! or any of the people, places, organisations, or beautiful AIs you may recognise here :)  
> title credit: Enrique Iglesias. bc, c'mon, I could resist _that_
> 
> not beta'd, as usual.. if you read enough of my works you'll realise a pattern, and the pattern is that I don't have anyone to beta for me lol
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it!  
> <333


End file.
